Harry Potter and the Mark of the Beast
by DementorGrl
Summary: After his fourth and most intense year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter finds himself faced with the return of Lord Voldemort. Mysterious mutilations and disappearances are occuring. The Dark Lord has invoked an ancient magic and resurected a dark and sinister b
1. The Mutilations

Harry Potter and all related characters are copyright J.K. Rowlling. The Mark of the Beast is copyright me. Do not copy or change in any way without my permission.  
  
Harry Potter and the Mark of the Beast Chapter 1: The Mutilations  
  
By:DementorGrl-Hey, sorry this chapter is so short. It was kind of a test. I hope to get more up today. Hope you enjoy!  
  
*News Reporter* "Police are baffled today by the bizarre slaughtering of several civilians this morning outside of a small café on the outskirts of London. An employee of a nearby gas station found seven bodies early this morning. Three of the bodies found belonged to employees of the café leading investigators to believe that the murders took place some time late last night after closing. The other four bodies have yet to be identified. All of the bodies were mutilated beyond recognition. So far the only clue investigators have to unraveling this case is a strange black claw found imbedded in one of the bodies. The claw is about seven inches long and does not appear to belong to any known animal. The claw, police stated, could be a weapon designed by gang members for the torture of victims, but much speculation has arisen. So far there are no leads or suspects concerning the murders. And now on sports this week...." Harry stared blankly at the television, unaware that his cousin, Dudley, was sneaking the remains of his meager breakfast off of his plate. Strange attacks? Bodies mutilated beyond recognition? Could this somehow be connected to Voldemort? He shook his head, scolding himself for worrying so much, but still, ever since Lord Voldemort had risen again the number of disappearances and strange deaths had been increasing at an alarming rate. Harry couldn't help but fear that Voldemort was behind each and every one of them.   
  
"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!" "What?" Harry blinked up at his Uncle Vernon, who had obviously been talking to him while he was so deep in thought. "I told you that I'm going to work now! Your Aunt and Dudley are going shopping in a bit. There's a list of chores on the counter. You had better get them done before I get home or there'll be hell to pay, do you understand me?!" His Uncle's purple mustached face quivered as he glared at Harry with a look of disgust. Harry opened his mouth to argue that he had better things to do than chores (like homework) and that Dudley never had to do anything, but then Harry decided that getting his Uncle's temper up was the last thing he needed to do. Getting kicked out of the house would not be a good idea with Voldemort and his Death Eaters back. "Yes, I'll get them done," Harry muttered darkly wondering what his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were doing at the moment and wishing he could talk to them. His Uncle then turned and walked out the door, saying goodbye to his wife, Petunia, and his son, Dudley, on the way out.  
  
Harry heaved a sigh as he pushed himself up out of his chair and headed for the back door, snatching the long list of work to be done on his way out. It was a fairly nice day out; a soft breeze played through his unruly hair as he stepped out onto the lawn. The bright rays of the sun filtered through a layer of white clouds, striking the yard at odd angles. He consulted the list: Weed the Garden. Luckily he had already mowed the grass this week so that was one less thing to be done. Moving silently among the rows of flowers in the garden he allowed his mind to wander as he began a never-ending battle with the stray weeds he couldn't seem to kill. It seemed as though every time he pulled out a weed, four more would replace it. It was grueling work, and it made his back hurt from bending over constantly. After half an hour of launching a counter strike on an army of plants he tiredly sat down beneath a tree to rest, striking the first task off of his list. Only eight things to go, and, in his opinion, the worst was almost over. He scanned the list: Sweep out the Garage, Mop the Kitchen, Vacuum the Living and Dining Rooms, Dust the Living Room, Make the Beds, Go to the Store and Fetch the Groceries (the list is on the fridge), Prepare Dinner, and run down the street and mail the letter on the kitchen table. Nearly six hours and a lot of running around later, Harry was pleased to see that everything except the preparation of dinner was done, and he had two and a half hours before his Uncle would be home.   
  
Relieved to finally have a break, Harry walked out back to sit in his usual thinking spot beneath the tree in the backyard. The evening air smelled strongly of the flowers from the garden, and the silence was peaceful and relaxing. Next door, his neighbor, Ms. Figg, had guests. They were sitting at a picnic table out back of her house enjoying cool glasses of Lemonade and cookies. One of Ms. Figg's many cats slowly padded its way over to where Harry sat and began rubbing up against his leg. Reaching down, he scratched in on the head, once again lost in his thoughts. What could possibly have killed all of those people that morning? It had to be connected to Voldemort, but what kind of monsters could have done it? He didn't know a great deal about monsters associated with the Dark Arts, at least not monster capable of doing something like this. They had mostly learned about smaller monsters; he supposed larger, more dangerous creatures would be dealt with in the following years. Perhaps Hermione would know; she might even know about the killings, living with muggles and having access to muggle news herself. Harry decided that the best thing to do would be to write to her about it later; right now he wanted to relax after a long day of   
  
After an uneventful dinner in which Dudley convinced his mother that he needed third helpings of everything (his diet hadn't worked out) because he felt faint, Harry went up to his room, his haven. Hedewig watched him kill over onto his bed with her larger, amber eyes. He sighed loudly and rolled over to fetch his quill and a piece of parchment from his nightstand.   
  
Dear Hermione,   
  
How are you? Have you heard from Ron this summer? Everything's fine here. Dudley's diet didn't work out so it looks like my Uncle's going to have to dish out some money to get a custom made uniform for Dudley for school. Have you got all of you homework done or are you doing triple the amount of work that was assigned. I managed to get Potions and History of Magic out of the way already. I'm halfway through Transfiguration (she didn't give us as much as usual.). Did you see the news about the murders in London? I saw it on the TV this morning. Do you have any idea what sort of creatures could be responsible? (If you've seen the news. If you haven't, I'm sure you will.) Say hello to your parents and Crooshanks for me.   
  
Harry  
  
"Come here, Hedewig. Take this to Hermione for me, okay?" Hedewig nipped his ear gently before taking off into the settling darkness of the night. Harry watched her fly off into the night. Down on the street below a shadow stirred.   
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That's all for this chapter ppl! I'm sorry it's so short! I promise the next part will be longer! What killed those people? What's Voldemort up to? I'm planning on making this a nice long fic, so enjoy!  
-DementorGrl  
  



	2. Shadows

Harry Potter and all related characters are copyright J.K. Rowling. The Mark of the Beast is copyright me. Do not copy or change in any way without my permission.  
  
Harry Potter and the Mark of the Beast Chapter 2: Shadows  
  
By: DememntorGrl-Oooohhhh, what was with that shadow at the end of chapter one, huh? I don't even know, and I'm the author! Anyways, hope you enjoy. I'm going to TRY and make this chapter extra long. Thanks for reading! Please R/R!  
-Oh yeah, and a friend of mine might be helping me write the story. Yay!  
Oh, and here's some special notes to some people who reviewed the first chapter (my 1st reviews! I love you pplz!)  
-Iggy 2000- thanks for the review, I'll try to read and review your story tomorrow!  
-Erica Amidala- thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy this part!  
-PEZ- *blushing*Do you really like it? I hope so, cuz I thought it sucked=P I do intend to write more, and I hope you like it! Thanz for reviewing!  
-Julie-Thanks for reading!  
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Harry looked up at the blackened sky. Rain had started to fall; if he didn't get home quick he was going to get soaked. He broke into a run, hoisting his jacket over his head to keep dry. Lightning streaked across the sky as the rain came down harder, pelting him as he sprinted down the sidewalk. Where was he? He hastily took in his surroundings as best he could while running. Had he taken a wrong turn? This wasn't his neighborhood. He took shelter under a nearby tree overlooking a desolate graveyard. An old house on a nearby hill stood, looking vaguely familiar. The rain began to ease. He looked out over the graves. There was a graveyard not to far from his house; if he crossed to the other side he should see the main street that he had meant to end up on. He must have passed it in the rain. Looking up at the sky for threats of more rain, Harry set off between the rows of graves. He had been here before, but when? Suddenly he tripped over something in the grass. He pushed himself up off of the moist grass and looked to see what he had fallen over. His heart caught in his throat; his blood ran cold. It was a severed human hand. Panicking, he jumped to his feet and looked wildly around. A nearby tombstone stood out oddly, but the name couldn't be read due to the build up of dirt and moss on the tomb. Reaching over with a trembling hand he wiped at the layers of muck that covered the name. He felt a shock run through his numb body as he read the tombstone: Cedric Diggory. Died during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Suddenly the hand on the grave came alive, grabbing Harry's ankle. He went crashing to the ground. The soil below Harry was shifting; something was coming out of the grave. It was Cedric. Eyes rolling madly, mouth hanging open, Cedric pulled himself free of the soil. Reaching for Harry, he let out a hideous moan. Terrified, Harry clawed his way to his feet and ran, Cedric right behind him. He ran for the house on the hill nearby. Ripping the door open, he rushed up the stairs and toward a light at the end of the hallway. Someone must be home! They had to help him! He rushed into the room. A man sat in a chair by the fire. Harry stopped dead, unsure of what to say to the man, nor having the breath to say it. Without looking at Harry, the man spoke in a sharp voice, "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Think you can just invite yourself in, hmm? Well, speak up, boy!" Harry struggled to answer the man as he clutched a stitch in his side, gasping for breath. "There's someone after me..."  
"He just wants to pay you back for what you did to him. You killed him, Harry, and now he wants revenge. As do I." Turning, the man was suddenly no more. Instead, a giant serpent sat in his place; it's venomous, red eyes gleaming wickedly in the light of the fire. It uncoiled itself and shot at him. He let out a scream as it struck him, knocking him over.   
  
Harry struggled wildly to untangle himself from his bed covers. He had landed ungracefully on the floor in a heap of pillows and blankets. It was just a nightmare. Breathing heavily, he tried to compose himself as images of the nightmare ran through his head. The man in the chair, he hadn't looked like Voldemort, but he seemed familiar. Where had he seen him? A tapping on the window nearby brought him back from his thoughts. A minute owl, twittering madly, was jumping up and down with a note clutched in its talons. Harry opened the window to permit Pig, Ron's owl. Taking the letter from Pig, he opened it and read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
How're things? Everything's fine here. You're never going to believe this. Somehow, Fred and George got hold of a thousand galleons! *Harry smiled as he remembered giving the twins his prize money from the Tri-Wizard tournament. He hadn't wanted it, and the Weasleys needed it much more than he did.* They're going to use it next year to open up a joke shop. They've already spent a little bit of it, though. They even bought me some new dress robes! Have you heard any news from Sirius? I wonder what's going on. Hermione just sent me a letter about those murders in London! I wonder what could have done them? Mom talked to Dumbledore the other day to see if you could came stay with us, but for now it looks like your stuck there. Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Sorry I couldn't write more, we're going out. Don't let the muggles get you down. Write if you need anything.  
Ron  
That's typical, Harry thought, furrowing his brow darkly as he folded up the letter and slipped it into a drawer in his desk. It looked like he was going to be stuck at the Dursley's all summer long. Well, he might as well get some homework done. Checking the clock he saw that it was eight o'clock. His Uncle would be up soon. Pulling out some fresh parchment and a quill, he began to work on his Potions essay: Discuss the uses of Asafoetida Powder in potions for exorcism, purification, and protection of phantoms and dark spirits. Also discuss how the smell can be dangerous to Humans. Sighing deeply, Harry pulled out his book 1000 MAGICAL HERBS AND FUNGI. He began reading a passage out of the book: Asafoetida Powder can be used for protection or exorcism of evil spirits when a concoction containing the magical powder is thrown into a fire or burned with incense along with magical rites (see the Bibliography for more information about Magical Rites). Harry's quill scratched back and forth across the parchment as he began his essay. A grunt in the next room followed by a loud thud, which caused the second floor of the house to shake, announced the awakening of Harry's cousin, Dudley. A series of aftershocks followed Dudley down the hall on his way to the bathroom, causing Harry to blotch his essay. Grumbling to himself, Harry attempted to cover his mistake. He could hear his Aunt and Uncle moving around as well. That's odd. It was a Saturday. Normally only his Uncle got up so early, out of habit. A knock on the door made Harry jump, blotching his homework again. His Aunt didn't wait for him to answer; she rushed into the room, fully dressed and in the process of putting her makeup on. "Come on, boy! We haven't got all day! Hurry up and get dressed!" she snapped irritably. "What's going on? What are we doing?" Harry was dumbfounded. They hadn't mentioned any of this to him. "WE'RE going to visit Aunt Marge. YOU'RE going to be staying with Ms. Figg. We'll be back tomorrow. Now hurry up and get dressed. And don't forget to get some clothes and your toothbrush, as you'll be staying the night. She'll be here any minute to pick you up." His Aunt marched out of the room, leaving Harry staring after her. Well, he would rather stay with Ms. Figg than go to Aunt Marge's.   
Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself sitting on a couch in Ms. Figg's cat infested house, wondering if there was a place where he could do his homework without being discovered or disturbed. Ms. Figg had guests, once again, and they seemed to be the same ones from the previous day. They were gossiping merrily in the kitchen about.... broomsticks! Broomsticks?! What?! "Well yes, she used to have one of those old Shooting Stars, but the thing was so old it just gave out on her. She landed right in some Muggle's swimming pool. It was the funniest thing. Of course, we were worried that she'd gotten hurt, but she was just fine. The Muggles were in a state of shock, though; a grown woman wearing magenta robes riding a broomstick lands in their pool! They couldn't believe it," the woman's voice carried out to Harry in the Living Room as she related the story to the giggling ladies. Harry couldn't believe it. Could Ms. Figg be a witch? She had to be, but why had she never told him? A thought occurred. At the end of his previous year at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had sent Sirius (much to Harry's dismay) out to gather support in their stand against Lord Voldemort. He remembered Dumbledore's words clearly as if he had just spoken them, "You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher-the old crowd." Could the Arabella Figg he spoke of be Ms. Figg? He didn't know her first name, but it started with an A. It could just be a coincidence, but still....it had to be her! He had to find out and how was his chance. The four ladies came out into the Living Room and seated themselves. Ms. Figg smiled at Harry, "What are you doing sitting all by yourself in here, hhhmmm? Oh, Rosemary, Donna, Alice, this is Harry. His Aunt and Uncle have gone out of town, and he's staying with me." They greeted him happily, recognition dawning on their glowing faces as he blushed and mumbled hello. It was now or never. "Ms. Figg?" he started uncertainly. "Yes, dear?" she smiled. "Are you a, uh, a..." the words caught in his throat as the four women watched him. "A witch, dear?" "Er, yeah." Harry was relieved. That was probably a yes. She nodded. "But how come you never told me?" he looked uncertainly at her. "Oh, well, since you didn't know about the Magical community before I really couldn't, and I haven't hardly seen you since you started at Hogwarts." she explained.   
Harry was in for another surprise that day as he sat beneath a tree out back of the house. He had just finished his potions essay (Snape had given them two over the summer! TWO!) and was looking up at the sun as it slowly descended on the horizon. He glanced over at his backyard next door. Ms. Figg's yard seemed friendlier somehow. The cry of a bird rang out through the air. Looking up, he spotted a raven flying towards the tree he was seated under. Closer inspection told him that the raven was carrying something. It was a package from Sirius. A hasty note was scrawled on the side:  
  
Harry,  
How are you doing? I hope you're better than the last time we met. Here's a little early Birthday present since I won't have time next week to send it. I'm sorry, but I have to run now. Hoping to see you soon,  
Sirius  
  
Harry smiled as he thought of his Godfather. He really missed him, but was glad to know that he was okay. Opening the package, he found a book entitled SPELLS TO DEFEND YOU AGAINST THE UNKNOWN. Leave it to Sirius. There was also a long, thin container of what turned out to be special use-any-time-any-where-floo powder with a note on it: Harry, ONLY use this in an ABSOLUTE emergency! He set the presents aside and leaned against the tree (he really had a thing for trees. They were a nice place to sit and think.). The raven, finished with its delivery, took flight. He watched it fly off into the distance, its ebony shadow following along the ground. As the bird flew off towards the horizon, the shadow suddenly veered off course and headed back towards the house. Landing on the window, it watched the four women inside chatting and laughing over a copy of WITCH WEEKLY. The shadow disappeared in an instant.  
  
"Arabella, what was that outside the window?" Rosemary got up from her seat, "I could have sworn I just saw a shadow of something watching us." Ms. Figg looked outside, "I didn't see anything...." "Maybe it was just my imagination...Oh dear! Look at the time! I'd better run or my husband will have a fit!" Rosemary hurried into the hall to grab her cloak. "We'd better go as well, Arabella," Alice stood up and brushed off her skirt. "Well, it was nice of you three to come and visit me. I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully." The three witches waved goodbye to Ms. Figg before disapparating. "Now where has that boy got to...Harry, come inside now, it's getting late." Harry gathered his package and walked inside. After a quick shower he hopped into bed.  
  
"This is the WWN, the Wizard Wireless Network, the only Network to bring you all the latest from music and give you hourly news updates, weather forecasts, and advertisements on the latest products. And now for the news...One of our sources from the Ministry of Magic has informed us that three more mysterious murders have taken place. Three witches, unidentified at the moment, were found dead just outside of a shop on Diagon Alley last night. The murders apparently took place just after closing. "The three witches had just apparated," claims a nearby shop owner. "I was closing up, and they appeared. They were apparently heading for the Leaky Cauldron. I walked inside and went to the back of my shop. Several minutes later I heard screams coming from down the street. By the time I found them, they were all dead and whatever had done it had disappeared." Just like the other murders the Ministry has been investigating, the three women were completely mutilated leading Unspeakables to believe that an animal of some kind was responsible. The Ministry still has no leads or suspects, but many people believe all of these murders are somehow connected to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A lot of rumors have arisen lately that You-Know-Who has regained his powers and is slowly building his army back up. The Ministry dismisses such rumors, claiming that it is impossible."   
  
"Whoa! Again!" Harry couldn't believe it. For the second morning in a row, he had woken up to find that several murders had taken place, and they had mentioned the murders that had appeared in the Muggle news as well! They had to be connected!  
"I can't believe it! And they haven't even identified the bodies yet! How horrid!" Ms. Figg seemed shocked as well. "I wonder who those poor women could have been..."  
  
Later that evening, Harry once again found himself back at the Dursley's. Everything seemed to always bring him back here. Luckily, Hedewig had returned with an answer from Hermione:  
  
Dear Harry,  
I was so relieved to get your letter. I've been on pins and needles all summer long, and I can't stand it when you and Ron go for a week or so without writing. I did hear about the murders; they were on the Wizard news as well as the Muggle news! The Daily Prophet has had a ton of articles about the murders as well as many strange disappearances. You-Know-Who has to be behind this! Have you heard from Sirius? I hope he's doing all right. I'm dying to know what task Dumbledore sent Snape on. Minister Fudge is still in denial about the whole thing. He refuses to believe that even the Death Eaters are active, even after what happened at the World Cup and at the Tri-Wizard Tournament! Anyway, I can't wait to see you. Write me once you get your school list and we'll try to get together with the Weasleys at Diagon Alley to get our school things. Crooshanks says hi. Take care of yourself, Harry. Love,  
Hermione  
  
It sounded like this year at Hogwarts was going to be interesting. With all that was going on, he was afraid that many of their normal privileges might be cancelled, such as Hogmseade visits, Quidditch, the freedom to go out on the grounds for anything but classes.... Harry once again lost himself in his thoughts. What could be killing all these people? And for what purpose? Whatever it was, it couldn't just be killing random people. He suddenly wished they would hurry up and identify all of those bodies; perhaps then some connection could be made. He wondered if the people killed outside of the cafe the previous day had all been Muggles. It sounded as though at least three of them had been Muggles as they had been employees at the cafe, but what about the other four? His head began to pound as he racked his brain for answers. He decided that the best thing to do would be to go to bed and worry about it in the morning. He whispered good night to Hedewig and slipped into his bed, falling asleep almost at once.  
  
He didn't understand why in the world their base of operations for the present time had to be such a dump. The house was literally falling apart beneath them, but he dared not question his master. His master had his reasons for staying here, but it was none of his business. Wormtail looked around him, waiting for his master to call him into the room. The door suddenly flew open and out came that man. Wormtail didn't like him; he was arrogant, young, and his master liked him. The man had been sent out on all kinds of *important* missions while Wormtail merely got to sit around and take care of his master. Not that he minded, but he wanted to prove himself, to prove that he was loyal. He entered the room where his master stood, silhouetted against the firelight, deep in thought. Wormtail hesitated, and then spoke, "Master?" "Wormtail, when have you received any word from Lucius about when the others will be ready? I'm growing impatient; we're wasting our time," Voldemort's voice was quiet, yet Wormtail quivered at the poison in every word. "I haven't heard anything. They've...apparently run into some trouble getting more people. The, er, creature sometimes kills the people rather than bringing them back to us. We have to be careful, my Lord. The Ministry is getting suspicious." Wormtail backed away from his master, knowing what was coming. "I know. I've seen it on the Daily Prophet. It's been on the Muggle news as well. Minister Fudge is as ignorant and incompetent as all of you fools; he still is blinded to the truth. He has no idea that I've got my body back. He's in denial. This is an advantage, but you fools are giving him more and more clues as to my growing presence! Perhaps you need a reminder that failure will not be tolerated, hmmmm? Crucio!" Wormtail's screams echoed in the night as Voldemort laughed cruelly. Harry awoke, once again, on the floor. His scar was searing with pain; clutching it tightly, he prayed he hadn't woken anyone. Crawling back into bed, his scar still burning, he tried to recall his dream. Looking around his room, he considered writing to Sirius. Should he tell him? He tried to remember what Wormtail and Voldemort had been talking about as he grabbed his quill and some parchment from his desk. Dipping his quill into some ink, he prepared to write. Movement by his closet distracted him. His shadow had suddenly come alive; it was twisting and moving, growing larger and coming alive. It seemed to come out of the very darkness itself as it began growling at him, stepping towards the bed with its claws outstretched. Horrified, Harry slipped off of the bed and began edging towards his desk where his wand lay. The creature, which had been born from his shadow, was unlike anything he had ever seen. The very fires of hell in its eyes, born of the darkness, a wicked demon, it opened it's jaws wide letting out a hideous snarl. Just as Harry's hand closed around a long, thin object that had been laying on his desk, the beast launched itself at him. He swung his hand around, expecting to see his wand in his grasp; instead he found the container of special floo powder Sirius had given him. Sirius had said to use it only during an emergency and this certainly qualified. One more grab at his desk gave him his wand as he dodged the creature. It prepared to leap again. He tore the lid off of the floo powder, grabbed a pinch, threw it into the air above him, and yelled the first thing that came to mind: "The Burrow!" He coughed as he inhaled what had to be half of the floo powder in the air. He began to spin quickly and felt the familiar sick feeling he always got when traveling by floo powder. He landed flat in the grass. Getting up, he brushed himself off and took in his surroundings. One look was all he needed: this was definitely NOT the Burrow.  
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Author's note: Oh my! Where is Harry? What is that creature in his bedroom? And what is up with all of the mysterious murders, huh? Keep reading to find out!  
-DementorGrl  
  
  
  
  



	3. Godric's Hollow

Harry Potter and the Mark of the Beast

Chapter 3: Godric's Hollow

I have something I want to say before I began. I want everyone to know how very sorry I am that it has been as long as it has since I submitted chapter 2. I could sit here and go on about it and make up excuses, but I have nothing more to say than I'm sorry. My only excuse is laziness and lack of confidence in my story. I'll try not to let you down. On with the story (I've kept you waiting long enough!)

Harry felt a tingling sensation throughout his body as he took in his surroundings. This wasn't the Burrow, and the last time he'd made a mistake with floo powder he had ended up down Knockturn Alley! Trying to stay calm, Harry tried to think of some plan in his head. Perhaps if he had a look around he could either figure out where he was or find someone to ask. The container of floo powder in his hand forgotten, Harry began walking at a brisk pace. He was in a rather large forest; the dark trees towering overhead let a very small amount of sunlight through. Harry gripped his wand tightly, shivering as an eerie chill crept through the still air. Something about these woods seemed familiar and yet... Maybe he had seen them in a dream. He jumped in fright when a stick cracked underneath his foot, the silence of the wood broken. As Harry walked on, the trees started to thin; he quickened his pace. There was a clearing ahead. As Harry came out into the clearing, he caught sight of a small village that had obviously not been inhabited for a very long time. The tiny houses were crumbling; various trees and plants had started to fight for the space the buildings took up. A sign stood, covered in vines and weeds. Harry walked towards it and began ripping the plants off to reveal the old sign. At thrill of foreboding gripped him as he uncovered the sign:

Godric's Hollow

A hand came down on Harry's shoulder; he spun around and came face to face with on older man. He was balding with gray hair and a stubbly beard. 

"What are yer doin' way our 'ere, kid?" 

Taken aback, Harry opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to produce any sounds, "I was, er, lost... and I, uh, was trying to figure out where I was..."

"Well, yer in Godric's 'ollow, just like the sign says, 'cept there ain't nuthin' 'ere but some burnt out buildings now, " the man waved his hand towards the overgrown village as he spoke.

"Do you live here?" Harry asked hopefully. Maybe this man could help him.

"I live nearby; I was out mindin' me garden when I saw ye' walk by. We don't get any visitors way out 'ere, so I followed ye. My name's Rob, Rob Lowe," Rob extended a hand toward Harry.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry replied, shaking the man's hand.

Ten minutes later, Harry was sitting in a cozy little cottage Rob had built just outside of the village. While busying himself with fixing a pot of tea, Rob inquired about why a young boy like Harry was way out here all by himself in the middle of the woods.

"Well," Harry began, "I'm not really sure…"

This man was obviously a muggle and wouldn't no much of anything about strange monsters or floo powder. The floo powder! Harry suddenly realized that not only could the floo powder get him out of these woods, but also the floo powder itself was missing.

"Somethin' wrong?" asked Rob, as he poured the tea into a mug for Harry and himself.

"Um, no, it's nothing." Harry answered, distracted, "How far away is the nearest town?"

"Lesse, it's 'bout a ten minute walk. There's a road, well, it's not really a road, but it's a path. It goes from the village ter town."

After about an hour of tea and putting up with Rob's less than interesting banter, Harry decided that it was time to leave. He assured Rob that he could find his way to the town and set off. Behind him Rob glowered and set off into the forest, gazing into the sky. Harry actually had no intention of heading to this so-called town; once he found his bottle of floo powder he's be out of this place. Something still bothered him, though. Rob had been a good deal less intelligent than most Muggles he'd met, or so it seemed. Rob had asked exactly what Harry had been doing out here in the woods, but hadn't pushed the subject. As strange as Harry found his current situation, he found it even stranger that Rob had not seemed to notice anything odd about Harry's appearance. He had told Harry that they didn't get any visitor way out here yet seeing Harry didn't seem to surprise him. 

Godric's Hollow. The sign sat, leaning slightly, the vines growing over it knocked askew by Harry's examination of it earlier. The name sounded familiar, but he honestly couldn't remember exactly where he had heard it before. Soft footsteps nearby brought him back to reality; a small white dog, probably Rob's, sat watching him. Grasped in its mouth was Harry's bottle of floo powder. 

"Come on, boy," Harry coaxed the dog towards him, "Come on."

He slowly moved towards the dog, hands outstretched. It bolted, running into the village with Harry in hot pursuit. Veering off course, the dog ran into one of the houses. Harry stopped in the font lawn. Unlike the other houses, this one wasn't just falling apart. There were scorch marks all over the crumbling structure; Harry was amazed that is still stood. Part of the structure appeared to have been blown completely away. _It would take more than a fire to do damage like this, _Harry thought as he peered in the doorway. Stepping inside, Harry suddenly got the feeling that he did not want to see the inside of this house, but what else could he do? The house looked even worse on the inside; here and there he could see objects that were vaguely recognizable as furniture. Shattered glass strewn across the floor cracked under his feet as he moved deeper into the house. Harry found the dog sitting in a room in the back of the house, possibly what used to be a living room. Cornering the animal, he snatched it up and claimed his floo powder before shooing the dog away. A light caught his eye. Somethin was glinting from a pile of rubbish in the corner of the room. Walking over, he sifted through the debris and pulled out a silver locket on a chain. The locket had an angel carved on the front riding some sort of animal. There were also some initials carved on the locket, but he was unable to make out what they were due to the buildup of dirt on it. He tried to pry it open, but it was rusted shut. He pocketed it. There was something about this house; he felt strangely drawn to it. _Why do I feel like I've been here before? _Harry pondered, examining the room around him. He racked his brain, trying to imagine why this house and Godric's Hollow seemed so familiar to him. As far as he knew, this was a place he had never set foot in before. _But then why do I feel like I should know this place so well? _He looked around again and wondered if the monster in his bedroom was gone. Suddenly, he wondered if it had gotten to his Aunt and Uncle. And suddenly he wondered if he cared. Only one way to know. Opening the container of floo powder once more, Harry threw a pinch into the air and shouted, "Pivet Drive!" 

One roller coaster ride later, Harry found himself standing at a very welcoming Pivet Drive. 

"Never thought I'd see the day when I'd be happy to see this place," Harry mused to himself as he headed towards his house. 

A thought struck him. It was still dark here, but it had been light where Godric's Hollow was located It couldn't have been that far away, could it? H approached his house quietly; not signs of any struggle appeared anywhere so Harry assumed everything was all right. Creeping around to the edge of the house, Harry quietly began to pull himself up the trellis on which the vines that Aunt Petunia was so proud of grew. Reaching his window, he pushed it up and slid inside. Everything in his room was just as he had left it; it seemed so odd that everything was intact and untouched. Heaving a sigh, Harry collapsed onto his bed. Looking back on the events of what had turned out to be a very long night, Harry realized how very odd everything that had happened was. Although it was rather odd that he had been attacked by a monster in his bedroom and ended up in some uninhabited village out in the middle of the woods, it was even stranger that he had gotten through the events of the night so easily. And what had that monster wanted with him anyway? Did it have anything to do with the mutilations that had been all over the news? It had to go back to Voldemort, but that would mean that he had found Harry at last…

Harry vaguely thought of writing to Sirius as he felt himself slipping into darkness. _I'll write him in the morning, _he thought as sleep took over.

Well, that's it for this chapter. Hopefully, I'll have the next one out bye tomorrow or the next day. I hope you enjoyed. Please review for me!


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